


By the Brandywine

by octopus_fool



Series: Yuletide Cheer [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Baby Vomit, Family, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Grumpy Bilbo Baggins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5403800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo flees from the chaos of Yule celebrations at Brandy Hall, only to find he was not the first one to escape. But sometimes, having company is less horrible than expected....</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Brandywine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt 11 of [ardaadvent](http://ardaprompts.tumblr.com/post/133103717966/arda-advent-guidelines) on tumblr, "home".

“I hate infants.” Bilbo cursed under his breath, glanced back at the door of Brandy Hall to make sure nobody had followed him and then slipped off his old ring so he could inspect the mess. “Why did I ever let Asphodel convince me to join the Yule celebrations? She is far too much like her mother.” 

It was only then that he noticed a young hobbit sitting there on a log amongst a nearby cove of trees overlooking both the entrance and the Brandywine with a book beside him. The other hobbit was probably barely in his tweens and was staring at him as though he had appeared from thin air, which was probably just how it had looked when Bilbo took off the ring.

“Where did you come from, Uncle Bilbo?”

“I walked. I could have asked the eagles to carry me, but I doubt they would have flown all the way here to help me flee from _that_. As trying as these relatives might sometimes be, they aren’t quite wargs. Except perhaps Saradoc’s terror of a son. He tried to chew through the leg of a chair earlier.”

The other hobbit, which must have been one of Bilbo’s countless cousins or nephews, laughed, then became serious again. “I could have sworn you weren’t there a moment ago.”

“Well, I’m better at sneaking than most. I hardly would have been chosen as the burglar of Thorin’s company if I weren’t.”

The other hobbit still didn’t look convinced, but seemed to be content to let it go.

“So why are you comparing them with wargs, aside from Merry recently having discovered an appetite for furniture? Why don’t you sit down?” He shifted to give Bilbo the sturdier and more comfortable part of the log he was sitting on, setting his book on his lap.

Bilbo huffed. “Do I look like an old hobbit to you?” 

“No, but by all rights, you probably should. I’ve heard them mention that you left for your adventure shortly after Saradoc was born, when you were middle-aged. Saradoc is now almost fifty himself, so you should probably be about a hundred. I thought it wouldn’t be wrong if I offered you the seat, even though you almost look Saradoc’s age.”

“I’m not nearly that old,” Bilbo said, taking the seat. “Merely 98. So tone down those assumptions, my lad.”

The little rascal did not seem to know whether to laugh or not. “Oh, so I do seem to have been rather off the mark. I apologize for that.”

Bilbo cuffed his head and took out his pipe to hide his own grin. He couldn’t help but like this cheeky fellow, even though he had come to seek some peace and quiet.

“So what about that story about what drove you out of there?”

Bilbo glared down disdainfully at the stain on his best waistcoat. “Young Paladin thought it was a good idea to make his oldest daughter take care of his infant son. Of course the lass was more interested in playing chase with her sisters. Not that that’s what she told me, though. Said she had to use the bathroom and handed me the squalling thing without even asking me first and then ran off to chase after her sisters. She got rid of the little goblin just in time too. I hadn’t held him for more than five seconds before he spat up on me.” He dabbed at the stain with his handkerchief, but it was already rapidly drying by now, so it wasn’t much use.

The lad nodded. “Little Pippin has already earned quite a reputation for good aim and timing. But I wouldn’t put it past Pearl to have figured out some kind of sign that Pippin is about to spit up. She is far more clever than she lets on. I’m more surprised you managed to get out of there that quickly.”

Bilbo shrugged. “Eglantine took her son back quickly enough and after that, well, I am an expert burglar. But what is a Brandybuck lad doing out here in the cold? I thought Brandybucks liked noise and company?”

“Now you are the one making assumptions, Uncle Bilbo,” the lad said, grinning widely. “I’m not a Brandybuck.”

Bilbo shrugged. “Brandybuck, Took… they all tend to like celebrating.”

“Well, it seems like we Bagginses like having some silence once in a while.”

That was when Bilbo finally recognized where he had seen those bright blue eyes before. “You’re Primula’s lad Frodo, aren’t you?”

Frodo grinned. “That’s me.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened to your parents.”

Frodo shrugged. “Thank you. It has gotten less painful over the years and Uncle Rorimac has taken good care of me.”

They fell into silence and looked out at the river for a while. Strangely enough, it was the first time neither of them had said anything since they had come outside seeking silence. Finally, Bilbo glanced at the book Frodo was holding.

“What are you reading?”

“The Tale of Beren and Luthien. There are some parts in it that I feel may have been translation errors, but it is interesting to read otherwise. I always liked the stories you told about the elves when I was younger.”

“I always liked that one too but finding a good translation is difficult. I’m thinking about going back to Rivendell one day and then I might translate some of the works in Lord Elrond’s library. Did I ever tell you about his library?”

Frodo shook his head and before long, Bilbo was telling Frodo about all the different books he had seen there, the high, hard to reach scrolls and the architecture of the place. There were not many hobbits that wouldn’t have taken off with the quickest excuse they could come up with, muttering about Mad Baggins, but Frodo seemed genuinely interested in everything about Rivendell and Bilbo’s travels. He asked quite a few questions and they were both surprised when the bell for the midnight feast rang. 

“You know what, Frodo lad?” Bilbo asked as they got up from the log they had been sitting on. “If you ever need some peace and quiet, come and visit me in Bag End. Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you came by even if you don’t need a break. I’ve enjoyed talking to you and I think I have a few books you might enjoy.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen several versions in which Frodo comes to live with Bilbo as a young child and thought it would be interesting to write a story in which Bilbo only becomes aware of Frodo around the canon time of when Frodo came to live with him. So canon ages in this one, I only had Pippin be born slightly earlier (it was too tempting to have him causing chaos XD).


End file.
